Changing Views
by Syncopate
Summary: Leafpool's punishment is to tell all about her mate and kits. Nightcloud's punishment is to hear it.
1. Leafpool

**C**hanging **V**iews

**W**ho:Leafpool and Nightcloud

**W**hat:Leafpool's punishment is to tell all about her kits and her mate. Nightcloud's punishment is to hear it.

**W**hen:After Long Shadows

**W**here:The Gathering and WindClan's camp

**W**hy:It's just something that needed to be said.

**I L**eafpool

_The Gathering that full moon seemed_ too crowded with cats, too full; had the leaders brought more cats on purpose, so that more would be witness to her confession? Had all gathered in preparation to hear her tell all? Surely those cats were too old to be warriors, and those too young to be apprentices. Would Firestar have done something like that to her, his only daughter still in ThunderClan? _No, _she thought. _He wouldn't. He's too kind for that._

Kinder than she deserved, certainly.

Leafpool was grateful for Jayfeather's and Hollyleaf's pelts brushing against hers; Lionblaze had left long ago for his father's Clan, and Heathertail. She couldn't say she missed him quite as much as she would have missed the others. Lionblaze had always been so much more like his uncle and his uncle's father than his own. Once she and Squirrelflight had joked about it, but those days were long gone.

Firestar had left his news for last, as she knew he would. She heard none of the other leader's words as they told of how the prey was doing well, how the borders were still well armed. The usual mousedung designed to fool the others into thinking all was well, when the real story of the harsh winter was written into every too-small frame, every dull pelt and eye, every fresh scar from both injury and battle. Some of the cats looked too weak to stand; obviously their Clans were only now recovering from the outbreak of greencough and blackcough that had started a moon ago. ThunderClan was lucky; it had been spared a moon of good weather before the catmint had all frozen with frost.

Leafpool noticed this because it made her believe that things were still normal. It kept her mind on the present, not the future of what she had to say before all the Clans.

That had been her punishment. She deserved so much more.

Still, as Firestar stepped up to announce the news, she heard her mind praying to StarClan to spare her from this; strike her dead if they had to. She couldn't do this. What was the point of saving his wrath if he would condemn her to a harsh punishment as this anyway?

But she deserved it, she did. It was her fault Squirrelflight roamed the forest, punished forever for what she did to save Leafpool's secret, Brambleclaw taking himself with her. It was her fault the best warrior in the forest wasn't even in it, but guarding the moorlands instead. It was her fault Ashfur lay in his grave.

So she would have to learn to live with her punishment instead. It was so much less than what she had afflicted on others.

Leafpool realized that all was quiet, that Firestar—_father_—was staring at her with no emotion on his face but expectancy. It was her turn. Hollyleaf nuzzled her, Jayfeather curled his tail around hers for the briefest second. It was little comfort, but it gave her the courage for what she had to do.

She climbed carefully up the trunk, concentrating on keeping her balance and not what was below her or what was above. She hadn't been trained to climb trees and this was a novel experience, but a frightening one all the same. But she made it up safely, with as few accidents as could be expected; a paw slipped here, a pad scraped there. _Just the journey. Don't think about what lies at the end. _

But then she was there, on the branches of the leader's tree. Her throat was dry, much too dry to speak. She choked out a word. "I—" and she cut off. She couldn't go on with her voice like this. Leafpool coughed a few times and her throat felt normal again. Whispers surged the impatient crowd of cats like fleas on a dog, going to and fro and back again. "What is she waiting for?"

Leafpool began again, this time with different words. She spoke haltingly, not sure of what to say.

"Almost twenty-four moons ago, shortly after the birth of a WindClan kit named Breezekit, three kits were born into ThunderClan. They had a mother that, because of her rank, could not claim them. And a father that, because of his Clan, did not know they were his.

"For a long time, the mother's sister pretended that the kits belonged to herself and her mate. No one had noticed the mother give birth, and the sister had been heavy at the time with a kit that never opened its eyes, but immediately passed to StarClan. Not even the sister's mate knew the kits were not his. For many moons, the kits grew, until they were not kits any more, but warriors." There was a bright blue gaze staring at her from the WindClan side. Whispers surged through the crowd. The ending of this story was quickly becoming clear.

"Lionblaze, Hollyleaf, and Jayfeather were caught with their supposed mother as a fire raged through the ThunderClan camp. Ashfur saw them and threatened to murder Squirrelflight's kits over a long-held grudge. He knew that it would hurt her worse than if he had murdered her instead. And so, in a last attempt to protect them, Squirrelflight confessed the secret that might save their lives.

"Lionblaze, Hollyleaf, and Jayfeather were not her kits. She did not tell anyone who the real mother was, or the real father. It was too much of a secret, she said. The real mother had made her swear not to tell." When had the words she used become names?

"Later, Ashfur asked Firestar specifically to go to a Gathering. He wanted Squirrelflight thrown out, and her kits along with her, but Ashfur knew better than to tell this here, where Firestar ruled, but saved his secret for the Gathering, when most cats would only want to drive out Squirrelflight and the kits come from who-knows-where." She paused here. The murmurs came from all sides now, even the ThunderClan side. They knew who was responsible for Ashfur's death. Only now did they know why.

"Later, before the Gathering, both Ashfur and Squirrelflight were nowhere to be seen. Just before the cats would leave without them, Squirrelflight dashed in, her fur clumped with mud and water. She said she had fallen into the lake." Leafpool looked down at her paws. This was the hardest part, telling of her sister's treachery. She was betraying her sister. "On the way to the Gathering, Ashfur was found dead. At first, they thought it was because he had drowned; the water level was so much higher. But when the examined him they realized. His throat was cut, cleanly, like with a cat's claw. He had been murdered.

"Only later did they connect Ashfur's murder with Squirrelflight's appearance. She wouldn't tell my secret, not even to Firestar. No one understood why Ashfur was killed besides me—and my kits." The whispers were so loud they almost drowned her out; they weren't really whispers any more. She could hear some yowls. "Traitor," they hissed. "Code-breaker!"

"But the next day I knew that I had to tell. I couldn't let my sister take the blame for a crime that was my fault. I told Firestar; he said that at the next Gathering I would tell this story. The story of a forbidden romance between the ThunderClan medicine cat and the WindClan warrior that led everyone to the new territory." She smiled, harsh and bitter. "The story of a relationship that ended as soon as the she-cat found she was heavy with the warrior's kits, just after his mate was, too."

He was burning her now with his eyes. She was, too. Leafpool could see Breezepelt, his eyes, but they weren't burning her. They weren't doing anything. Breezepelt, at least, didn't care about what his father had done. She didn't blame him. Lionblaze was burning her, though.

Leafpool leaped down from the branch of the tree, ignoring the murmurs of the crowd as she sought out the two that she needed right now. Like the thought had brought them, Hollyleaf and Jayfeather fell beside her, guards against the whispers.

And the Gathering was over.


	2. Nightcloud

**II N**ightcloud

_Was she really that surprised? _

No, Nightcloud was not surprised; she was just angry. Did the ThunderClan she-cat really have to go up there and tell of the things that had hurt her the most, the things that made others whisper in sympathy and sometimes anger, that made some comfort her and others distrust her? Because she was with him?

_She was covering it up all this time, _they whispered. _She wanted to protect his secret. Her and that kit of hers. _Especially now that Lionblaze was here. Breezepelt was by her side, tail over her shoulder; Crowfeather had tried, but Nightcloud hadn't let him, and neither had their son. Nightcloud didn't want him near her, not after what she had just heard.

Because Nightcloud had finally snapped. She was tired of this; she was tired of being second-best to that ThunderClanner, that Leafpool, when he had promised as her mate to forget her, to make room for her in his heart instead. She had loved him, she still did—but you needed to feed love with love of your own or it would shrivel, and that was what Crowfeather did. He didn't love her; he didn't love his own kit just because it belonged to her and not to Leafpool. Of course he loved Lionblaze and Jayfeather and Hollyleaf more, of course he did; you could see it in a moment, the way he looked at them. Everyone had seen it, but she had told herself _No, of course he does. He has to. _

But now she knew. Because why else? Wasn't Leafpool heavy with kits after she herself had discovered it? Didn't that only mean one thing? She had agreed to be Crowfeather's mate, but for a while he was still Leafpool's. Was that what being Crowfeather's mate meant? That unless you were Leafpool or Feathertail, you were just someone who could cover up with him, while all the while he went on and loved the others?

Of course it did. She had known it; she had just denied it. Wasn't it so clear, even then? The way he looked over the border, just dying to see a glimpse of Leafpool, picking her herbs and flaunting the way he couldn't have her, while Nightcloud watched and wished he would look for her like that.

"You still love her, don't you?" she had asked once. Crowfeather shook his head, trying to smile like it was just a big joke.

"No, Nightcloud, of course not." But he was lying. She could see it in his eyes. "Why would you be my mate if I didn't? Didn't I ask you?"

_So they would think you had forgotten her, _she had thought. And then she had banished the thought, banished it to the deepest corner of her mind, where truths you didn't want to know hid.

Because didn't she love him? Hadn't she loved him for so long?

Breezepelt stirred beside her. "We're here, mother," he meowed. And she realized that she hadn't noticed.

Breezepelt. Hadn't he understood for so much longer than she had? She had noticed how harsh Crowfeather was with him, but she had dismissed it. But hadn't Nightcloud seen how hard it was on him, to receive praise from everyone but his own father? How much it had hurt him? So she had doubled her own praise, hoping to make up for it, but she had always known that it wasn't her, the mother, the she-cat, he had wanted praise from. It was his father, the one that all tom-kits looked up to. But she was the only real parent he had, although Leaftail—a friend of hers from kithood—had often tried to play the part when Nightcloud hadn't been able to deal with the problems that came only to toms. Come to think of it, hadn't Leaftail been the first to speak to her—really speak to her—after Leafpool's speech?

Nightcloud hid a small smile at this thought as she lay down in her usual hollow in the ground. Breezepelt was gone already, and Crowfeather would come up to talk to her soon, she thought. If he didn't, she would come to speak to him.

Crowfeather didn't come.

Nightcloud wasn't sure what she was going to say, but she had an idea; just a vague idea, but it was enough. She wasn't going to bother with softening her voice or her tongue. It was time she really talked to Crowfeather about everything.

She climbed to her paws, shaking her head to clear every bit of sleep. She could see him, not far from where she was; cats stared as she stalked over, pelt bristling. She looked as angry as she felt.

Crowfeather didn't look up as she approached, but she could see his eyes, blue and open, staring away from her as if, if he didn't look at her, she would go away. "I want to speak to you," she hissed. "Alone." Nightcloud saw, out of the corner of her eye, Breezepelt, climbing to his paws. She looked over at him and hissed, "Stay there." He sunk back to the ground.

Crowfeather responded now. "Alright." He rose shakily, as if he wasn't sure of his balance. "I guess I should have seen this coming." That didn't need an answer out loud. He should have.

Nightcloud began to lead him away from camp, racing across the grass as only a WindClan cat could. Crowfeather followed. Soon they were near the entrance to one of the tunnels to the ThunderClan border, and she paused there. The smell of catmint was intoxicating, but she ignored it.

"What is it with you, Crowfeather?" she asked. "Why are you doing this?" He didn't respond. "I loved you. Since we were apprentices I loved you. So why did you insist on falling in love with not one, but two, cats that weren't even in the Clan?" She paused, waiting for him to answer. He didn't. "When you asked me to be your mate, I was happy, happier than I had been in a long time. 'He's finally given her up!' I thought. 'He loves me now—' and I was so happy when you said that you didn't love them anymore, that you only loved me now. And when the moons went by, and I noticed that you spent too much time near the ThunderClan border, or looking up at the stars—I told myself that it was just habit, that you were looking for something else—someone else—and I told myself that of course you loved me, you had said so.

"When you left the nest at night and said you were making dirt or something, and didn't come back until just before sunrise, I said that you were just held up, that was all. Nothing special. Then I found out that I was going to have your kit, and you said you were so happy, but you didn't seem like it. But still, I thought, _Why doesn't he act like it? Why doesn't he seem happy, instead of just looking like it?_" And after that you stopped leaving the nest as much. Just once after that. And that was all." She took a breath. He took advantage of this.

"So what?" he meowed. "I saw her for a little while after you were my mate. I was stupid. I stopped afterwards."

She glared at him. "But you never stopped loving her, did you? Even when our kit was born, you didn't act like you loved him. You never even tried, because there was no way you could love a kit that came from me and you, instead of you and her, right?" He didn't say anything. He knew it was true.

"And I waited for you to get over her, for you to stop waiting at the borders, for your eyes to stop searching for her in ThunderClan. I saw the way you looked at her when she was caring for Breezepelt after he fell down that hole, and I stepped in so you wouldn't remember all the things you had done. I saw the way she looked at you and knew that she still loved you. I tried to say that it was just one-sided, that you just felt sorry for her. But I knew that I was just your mate because you thought if you chose a new one, a WindClan one, they would think you were over her. That you loved someone else instead." She waited for a response before asking her question.

"Is it true?" Nightcloud hissed. "You still love her, don't you?" The echo of that long-ago question sprung to her lips without hesitation, and she knew what the answer would be.

"Yes," mewed Crowfeather. "Yes, I do."

Nightcloud turned her back on him then and walked away. Her heart would take a while to heal from this, she knew. But it would heal much faster than if he had denied it.


End file.
